Sally Brown shivered and pulled the security blanket higher up onto her shoulders. It was a chilly night to be sitting out in a pumpkin-patch. But here she was on All Hallow’s Eve, nonetheless. Staring across gnarled vine and overripe fruit at the man/boy of her dreams.
“Linus…” she whined, “what are we doing out here? I’m missing out on all the tricks and treats!” Linus Van Pelt looked up from his work. “Sally,” he cajoled, “we’re here, in this sincerest of pumpkin patches, awaiting The Great Pumpkin. Who rises up from the pumpkin-patch with the least hypocrisy to bring candy and toys to all the good children of the world!”
Linus stepped back to admire his handiwork, lighting the last candle on the last point of the pentagram he’d carefully etched in the dirt. “And this year we’re doing it right.” he said approvingly, “now for the sacrifice. Hey Sally, give me a hand with your brother’s dog. Sally where’d you… Sally NO!!!”
But it was too late. Sally had wandered over to the white panel van parked near the pumpkin-patch and the leering stranger offering a handful of treats. Was pulled inside and Linus could only clutch the dog in horror as taillights faded into the night.
“Rats!” he exclaimed. Then the beagle bit him. “Aaaaugh!” he screamed. Blood spattered onto the sincere ground and the little dog wriggled free and away. Wrapping his arm in the blanket to stem the blood flow, Linus took out his cellphone and made a desperate call.
“That lil blonde will bring a good price!” sneered the stranger. The driver grinned, nodding in agreement. Sally, bound and gagged, looked around at her fellow passengers. There was her man/boy’s sister Lucy, Frita, Marcie and a little-redhaired-girl whose name eluded her.
“Hey, do you hear… piano music?” queried the stranger. “Yeah,” agreed the driver, “sounds like Beethoven’s 5th but… what the hell is that?” Up ahead, in the road, sat a boy hunched over a small piano. Beside him, stood another boy, who looked like he’d been dragged through a pigpen.
Illuminated by the headlights, Pigpen clapped his hands together violently. Visibility immediately went to zero as the road and van were enshrouded in a massive maelstrom of dust. Blinded, the driver swerved to avoid manslaughter charges and ran the van head-on into a tree. But not just any tree…
As the stunned driver and stranger staggered from the van they were confronted by another child. A stout looking bald kid, in a yellow shirt, with a black sideways lightning bolt sketched across it. “This is the kite eating tree, you mother***ers!” the kid bellowed, “Now give me back my little sister.” The theme from Halloween tinkled from the ivory.
The boy’s threat fell short. As neither of the men were kites and thus were in no immediate danger. But their van was totaled, so they’d have to leave the scene… on foot… empty-handed… no witnesses. The funeral march played across the keys.
Grabbing the bald kid, they dragged him back into the van and flung him in with the others. Sliding the door shut, Glock 9mm’s with silencers materialized in both men’s hands. “Let’s do that little black-haired b***h first,” growled the stranger, “she called me a blockhead.”
They were set to do just that, when suddenly… everything… went dead silent. Then the driver spoke- “Do you hear that?” At first the stranger shook his head negative but then… “Yeah, what is that?”
It began as a low murmur, on the dust ladened wind. Quickly it built in intensity. Coming from outside, from all sides of the van. “WAH-WAH-WAH-WAH… WAH-WAH-WAH!”
Looking out the windows the men caught glimpses of feet, knees, sometimes an elbow but never a face. And the chant continued. “WAH-WAH-WAH-WAH… WAH-WAH-WAH!”
They fired wildly to no avail. In panic they burst from the van and were immediately seized by unseen hands. Their screams faded into the darkness.
When the dust settled, Linus was there and helped Chuck untie the girls. Realizing he’d almost lost her, he took Sally into his injured arm and kissed her passionately- ah finally my sweet baboo.
Meanwhile The Great Pumpkin stood in the sincerely empty pumpkin patch. With an armload of treats and toys. Looking quizzically down at a beagle dressed in WW2 attire.
I welcome almost all questions, comments via Focus, or E-mail me at [email protected]. Hope to hear from ya, until then try and stay focused! See ya.
